Vanilla Twilight
by beautifulpurpleflame
Summary: Oneshot song-fic commissioned by salerac1 on tumblr Beast Boy, despite being warned, tries to cheer Raven up after she's had a very bad morning. When he only makes things worse Raven brutally snaps at him and he ends up shutting himself away. After five days Raven discovers him leaving the tower and decides to follow. What she finds is nothing short of surprising!


He looked back at his fourteen-year old self and cringed. He'd felt he'd known everything at the time, that he was the whole package. He was funny, he was talented, he had his finger on the pulse of what was in and what was lame. Now, at twenty, he could see how ridiculous he must have appeared to her. A gangly green kid puffing out his chest and spouting corny jokes to win over his crush, two years his senior and ten years more mature. What was he thinking? He was nowhere near her league back then.

But he wasn't fourteen anymore and now the distance between them didn't feel so vast. He'd grown, learned, had his heart broken, been humbled, and now had built himself up from a scrawny boy to a more world-wise man. Don't get him wrong, he still cracked corny jokes. He loved the groans they invoked and the odd laugh or snort he'd manage once in a blue moon. But he knew that that was not the way to win Raven's heart. Though he had heard her snort once, something she'd deny to her dying day.

Today she was looking exceedingly elegant as she sat by the large window in the common room, sitting on a floor cushion with her book in her lap and a cup of earl grey tea by her side. She'd tucked a lock of her long violet fringe behind her ear and was donning her favorite casual 'around the tower' wear. She was beautiful and scary and, god, his heart swelled whenever he looked at her. Yes, she could snap his neck with the utterance of a spell and the flick of her wrist. But he knew her, respected her, was smart enough to fear her and smart enough to trust her.

He took in a deep breath, cracked his knuckles, and proceeded towards her. The last thing he was expecting was a large, robotic hand to grasp him by the elbow and steer him in another direction.

"Not today, man," Cyborg shook his head.

"Huh?" Beast Boy replied, confused.

"She had a bad morning and I'm telling your right now she won't put up with you today," Cyborg warned him in a quiet voice.

"All the more reason for me to put a smile on her face," Beast Boy reasoned.

"Gar, I'm serious," said Cyborg. "She woke up with a headache, her favorite mug broke, the toaster stuck and burned her bagel, they took that occult series off Flixnet before she finished it, she stubbed her toe on the coffee table. And it's not even noon yet."

"Jeez, that's one hell of a shitty start to the day," Beast Boy whistled. "But don't worry, I got this!"

"Gar, no!" Cyborg tried to grab him again but this time the changeling easily avoided him.

He crossed the room confidently and called out, "Goooood morning, Raven!"

She tensed at his loud, sudden greeting then sent him a glare before turning her gaze back to her book. "Morning."

"Heard you've got some bad juju hanging around you today," he said, copping a squat next to her.

"Nothing I can't handle," was her reply as she turned the page of her book.

"Hey! I've got an idea," he said, excitedly. "How about I treat you to an entire day of pampering? You've had a rough morning so let me take care of you the rest of the day. I'll take you to the library, that café you like, the incense shop, maybe a mani/pedi and a massage, the works! There's no bad juju that I can't conquer."

"I can't even begin to explain how exhausting that sounds," she sighed.

"Come on, you need to get out of the tower!" he said with enthusiasm. "We'll do whatever you want and I'll make sure nothing else bad happens to you. I got you, boo!"

"Garfield, stop," she said, a hint of annoyance starting to creep into her tone.

"Okay, okay, you don't wanna leave the tower," he conceded but was not at all deterred. "I get it, it's a big world out there and who knows what it could throw at you. So how about this, I'll build you a security fort! I'll make a tent with sheets and fill it with pillows and blankets and books and put a sign saying, 'No Bad Juju Allowed'. I'll set up that meditation fountain you've got in your room outside of it so it's all calm and tranquil. Maybe I could crawl inside and take a catnap."

She snapped her book shut. "I don't want a fort. I don't want to leave the tower. I don't want you to fawn over me like I'm some helpless damsel in distress. I just want to spend the rest of the day in calm silence. Alone." She made to stand up and grabbed for her cup of tea.

"Oh! I'll get that," he said and went to snatch it first. "Don't want another mug to break on you." At least, that's what he'd intended to say. Instead, on the word 'another' he misjudged the weight of the mug and almost dropped it. He managed to catch it and right his hold but not before launching the liquid inside of it all over Raven and her book. And, for one brief moment, time seemed to stand still. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

Raven looked down at herself and her drenched book. Her drenched, old book. Her drenched, old, antique book. She looked up at him with four red, hostile eyes that had not made an appearance in a good long while. "WOULD YOU GET AWAY FROM ME?! Why can't you ever listen? Stop bothering me! For the love of Azar, leave me the hell alone! You're a fucking nuisance, Garfield, a fucking nuisance! Why is it so hard for you to comprehend what I tell you? I can't take it anymore! Stay away from me! Do you understand? _Stay away_!"

Everything in the common room was rattling and spinning and a few things even flew through the air as she released her pent-up frustration through her powers. She sent a blast of energy directly at him, knocking wind out of him and forcing him back three feet until he fell onto his behind. She threw the now empty tea mug into the sink, shattering it, and stormed out of the room. When the door closed behind her and everything settled down, Cyborg popped up from the other side of the couch he'd been hiding behind.

"I warned you, man."

* * *

She hadn't meant to snap at him that harshly. She really hadn't. He'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time. On top of having that horrific morning from hell, she'd also been hungry which always made her cranky and PMS-ing something serious. And as in control of her emotions as she prided herself to be, even she couldn't handle that perfect storm of circumstances. So he'd unwisely poked her and she'd lashed out at him. But she felt that the majority of her points were valid, if not conveyed in the nicest way. So she knew she needed to apologize for her anger but stand by her issue of his reluctance to respect her wishes. She decided to wait a couple days to get her emotions, and her hormones, back in order. So she spent three days mostly in her room and speaking to no one.

When she emerged from her chamber feeling far more levelheaded and relaxed, she went to socialize with her teammates and friends. She knew they'd been worried about her but not enough so as to invade her personal space. Good. That's what she wanted. That was what Beast Boy just couldn't seem to get right. She found Nightwing and Starfire cuddled on the couch looking at something on his tablet while Cyborg was doing a system check on the main screen. They all turned to see her upon her arrival and, to her surprise, they seemed slightly disappointed.

"Hey, Raven," Nightwing greeted her. "Feeling better?"

"Much," she replied. "Did I miss anything important?"

"Not really," said Cyborg. "Gar's been locked in his room ever since you blew up at him, though."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Just what I said," said Cyborg. "You yelled at him, which I honestly think he had coming, then he dragged himself to his room. He hasn't spoken to anyone since."

"Are you sure he's in there? Or that he's even alive?" she asked.

"He comes out but just to use the bathroom and get food," said Nightwing. "He barely even acknowledges that we're around."

"Oh, but he has spoken to me," said Starfire. "We almost walked into one another when we came around the same corner in the hallway and he apologized. But that was all."

"Did anyone try to talk to him?" asked Raven.

"Yeah but he's not interested in talking, I guess," said Cyborg. "He just wants to be in his room. I listened outside of it to maybe get an idea of what he's doing in there and all I can hear is a radio playing on and off and the sound of him tapping away at his computer or something. Which is a good thing, I guess, cuz that means he's not moping in his bed."

"I don't think we really need to worry until he refuses to go on a mission," said Nightwing.

Now Raven was starting to feel guilty. She'd told him off most of their friendship but he'd never gone and locked himself away because of it. Had she really been that harsh to him? Had she somehow touched a nerve she'd never touched before? Nevertheless, "I guess I should go apologize."

"He won't talk to you," said Cyborg.

"Maybe not but I can try," she said. "Then he can't say I didn't apologize to him."

The walk to his room was quiet and full of thoughts. She could understand him pouting for a day after the way she'd snapped at him. But locking himself away for days on end? That was very strange. He hadn't done that since… since Terra had betrayed them. Since he'd had his heart broken. But that wasn't the case here, was it? No, absolutely not. She hadn't broken his heart. He wasn't in love with her. Sure, he flirted with her and begged her to go on dates with him but that was his usual joking and teasing. He loved getting a rise out of her. That was all.

She came upon his door and, with a sigh, knocked. "Garfield, it's Raven. Can I please have a word with you?" There came no reply. Only the sound of that tapping Cyborg had mentioned earlier. She knocked again, this time harder. "Garfield?" She listened and nothing had changed. Well, fine. She'd say it through the door. If he was ignoring her he'd at least hear her and if he was wearing headphones or something then there was security footage to prove that she had come and apologized. "Garfield, I'm sorry for the way I snapped at you the other day. I was having a very bad day and a number of other things were going on with me so I lost control. I'm sorry. But I do want to have another talk with you about personal space and respecting my wishes." She listened again and still there was no reply. Well, she tried. She turned and decided to go back to the common room to tell everyone the result of her attempt. She'd maybe try again later.

* * *

This was getting ridiculous now and she was becoming annoyed. In total, he'd been locked away in his room for five days now. Five days! Oh, he came out to raid the fridge and to use the bathroom, but he didn't speak to anybody. Even when she approached him on one of his rare outings, he kept earbuds in his ears and ignored her. She'd apologized through his door each day but never received a response. Thank Azar they hadn't been called out on any high-stake missions!

At first she'd felt guilty then slightly worried then exasperated and now full on irritated. She'd done an emotional diagnostic on him through his door but couldn't pick up on anything alarming. He was a little melancholy but there was also a feeling of tenacity, two very contrasting feelings that seemed evenly matched within him. She wasn't sure what to make of that but as long as she didn't feel him steering towards hopelessness she wouldn't intervene.

So when on the evening of his fifth day of confinement she felt his consciousness not only leave his room but leave the tower all together she grew immediately concerned and intrigued. She slipped out as well and stealthily followed after him. She felt nothing alarming in his emotions so she didn't see the need to reach out to her teammates to let them know what was going on. At least not yet. It all depended on where he was going and what he was going to do once he got there.

She followed him across the calm bay, through the bustling bright lighted city, and watched as he turned from a stork into a man again outside of a building she wasn't familiar with. She waited for him to go inside before manifesting back to her own form. On the front of the building was a large electronic sign reading 'Sakura Music Hall' and advertising that week's performers. It also said that Thursday night was an open mic night. And, unless she was mistaken, today was Thursday. Was he here to listen to amateur musicians play? Since when was he a supporter of local musicians? It didn't matter. He was here and she needed to know why.

The sound of a woman singing while playing a guitar bombarded her senses as soon as she entered and she cursed the person who decided to put large speakers right in front of the door. It wasn't a large music hall, it looked like the type of place schools and local chorus groups would rent for recitals. But it was clean and seemed to be well run. The walls were lined with foldable chairs and there was a little bar set up with a chipper bartender serving drinks. There were about twenty tables and chairs in front of the stage where the woman singing, if that's what it could be called, stood with her guitar. It wasn't packed, as one would expect on amateur night, but it wasn't empty either. She looked around but couldn't spot him, something that didn't usually happen. She searched for him with her mind and found that he was in the building and nearby just not in the room she was in. Oh well, she'd stay near the door and keep an eye out.

* * *

He cracked his knuckles then started doing nervous lunges backstage. He did a couple hops and shook out his extremities. He couldn't remember the last time he was nervous like this. Granted, he got anxious whenever he was on the way to a mission but this was different. His life wasn't on the line and no one was going to get hurt if he screwed up but, still, he felt like he might die from the nerves. But there was no turning back now. If he didn't go out there then the stage would be empty and quiet and everyone would know that someone chickened out. And he'd know that that chicken was him.

"B.B. Logan, you're on deck," said the stage manager as he hurried around, getting everything set up.

"Okay, thanks," he said, pulling his hat down to hide his face. "Are the lights set up? Are they set to green?"

"Yep, light booth just confirmed you're all set," said the stage manager.

"Great," he said, relieved. He didn't want anyone to know who he was, which was a hard task when you go up on a stage in front of an audience, but he'd come up with the idea of using green lights during his performance so everyone would just think his skin was tinted from the lights. For now he was bundled up with gloves, a knit hat, and a turtleneck. Anywhere else he'd look shady but in this environment, surrounded by numerous quirky musicians, no one gave him a second look. Which was a first!

He listened as the audience clapped for the current band on stage and they said their goodnight. Okay, he was up next. The stage darkened slightly while the instruments of the previous act were moved off and a piano was rolled on. He lifted his hat enough that his face could be seen but his ears were still covered, took his gloves off, and folded down his turtleneck. He took in a deep breath then walked out onto the stage to set up. No one in the audience made any acknowledgement of his entrance and that calmed him down slightly. He put his music on the piano and adjusted the seat so it was just right. He moved the microphone into place and snapped his fingers in front of it to make sure it was on. It was. Okay, now all he had to do was wait for the lights to go up; he'd already warmed his fingers up backstage. His sensitive ears picked up various conversations, glasses clinking, chairs scuffing across the floor. He decided to do something he'd trained himself to never do and ignore his senses.

The green lights illuminated him and, if he were honest, he did jump. The audience chuckled a little and he smiled and scratched his neck. It was kind of funny. "Hey everyone, I'm B.B. Logan and this is my first time performing. Like, ever!" The audience cheered. "So I can't promise I'm gonna be very good but I put my whole heart into this so please be, you know, nice. Anyway, I've only got one song but I think that's enough for a first-timer, right?" He took in a deep breath and placed his fingers on the keys. "This song is dedicated to a woman in my life who I'm head over heels in love but just can't seem to reach no matter what I do. Rae, this is for you. And I _really_ hope you never find out I did this." He smiled nervously and the audience laughed and clapped. Then he cleared his throat and pushed down on the keys.

_(Insert Owl City's Vanilla Twilight lyrics here since apparently you can't post song lyrics anymore. You know where you can read this with the lyrics still intact? A03.)  
_

* * *

She wasn't sure what to think. Or, rather, she wasn't sure which thought to focus on in her mind that was a flurry of questions. Beast Boy had written a song about her? Beast Boy knew how to write music? Beast Boy could play the piano? Beast Boy could sing? _Beast Boy_ had _written a song_ about _her_?! What in the name of Azar was going on? Did this mean that he hadn't been teasing all this time? That he had been flirting with her seriously, asking her out seriously? Was this what he'd been doing all week behind his closed door?

She watched him leave the stage, the audience was still clapping and cheering, and knew she had to talk to him. She walked through the crowd to make her way backstage. But what should she say to him? How surprised she was? How flattered she was? Could… Could she accept his feelings?

She'd never seriously thought about it before. To be honest, she'd put any thought of being attracted to him in the recesses of her mind long ago. When the team first came together, she'd found him to be immature and overwhelming. She'd had no interest in him back then. But as time went on and she watched him grow and think more before he acted, she entertained the thought of finding him attractive. That thought got quickly snuffed out, however, as he consistently teased her with his attempts at flirting. Which, at the time, she thought were insincere. But they weren't. He'd meant every gesture. And, as she thought about it, she was growing annoyed again. When this was over she was going to give him a lesson on how to flirt without coming off as an overeager, disingenuous buffoon. If he'd known how to flirt properly they could've avoided this altogether!

She managed to get herself on the stage and looked around for him in the wings, just managing to catch a glimpse of him leaving and going backstage. She followed after him and when he paused in the hallway to check his phone she reached him.

"Hello."

* * *

He looked up from his phone, saw her, and could feel the color drain from his face. No. This couldn't be happening. She wasn't here right now. Nope. Absolutely not. He stared at her, slack jawed, for a good five seconds before squeaking, "What're you doing here?"

"Oh, so you're speaking to me again?" she asked, crossing her arms.

He swallowed, his throat feeling incredibly dry. "Did you follow me?"

"Considering you locked yourself in your room for five days and refused to speak to anyone and then snuck out once the sun set, yes, I followed you," she said. "And I won't apologize."

"Ever heard of a thing called privacy?" he frowned.

She could feel that he was angry because he was nervous and embarrassed. "I heard you play. I heard you sing a song about me. I heard you bare your soul."

"No!" he cried, pulled his hat fully over his face, and crouched down, getting as small as possible. "No, no, no! Why did you follow me? You weren't supposed to hear that!"

"You wrote a love song about me with the intention of me never hearing it?" she asked. "You're such an idiot."

"I know, just kill me already!" he begged, mortified.

"No, I want to explain to you why you're an idiot," she said pointedly. "You had all of that beautiful poetry, all of those charming phrases, all of that exquisite imagery in your head and instead of conveying your thoughts and feelings through any of that you bombarded me with ill-timed attention and unclear, waffling flirtation? To quote myself a minute ago, you're an idiot."

Was he mistaken or had she just said something complimentary about his music? He carefully turned his gaze upwards, peeking out from under his hat. "So… are you saying you liked the song?"

She sighed heavily. "Of course I liked the song, Garfield. It was beautiful and, had you not named me beforehand, I'd have thought you were writing it about someone else. I… I loved it."

He tentatively unfolded himself and stood back up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Is that what you were doing in your room all week?"

"Well I've kinda been working on it on and off for a while," he shrugged bashfully. "But after you yelled at me I felt like I'd ruined any chance of winning you over. So I did what I always do: stress played my keyboard. Then all of a sudden inspiration hit me. So I focused on that and somehow managed to make an actual song. I'm kinda shocked I did it."

"But why did you ignore everyone?" she asked.

"Well I was also kinda punishing myself," he admitted. "I didn't listen to Vic and then I made your bad day worse. Then I got my head in a funk and just didn't want to deal with anyone. Plus, isolating myself really helped me work on the song. Without any distractions the music just sorta flowed out of me!"

"I'm glad you found inspiration through isolation but don't do that again without giving us some sort of notice," she said. "Everyone was worried sick."

"Even you?" he asked with a small smile.

"I followed you here, didn't I?" she said, blushing slightly. "Come on, you're taking me out for a cup of tea."

"Right now?" he asked, surprised.

She started walking down the sidewalk. "Hurry up before I leave you behind."

He grinned widely and hurried after her. "Coming!"

They walked down the street, side by side, exchanging the odd side look every few yards. He felt that maybe, just maybe, his world wasn't ending. That maybe he hadn't lost his chance of winning her heart. She felt that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as careless as she'd thought. That maybe there was a man standing next to her that genuinely liked her. She reached over and weaved their fingers together. "Huh. What do you know? The space between your fingers do fit mine perfectly."

* * *

**AN: Hi everyone! I really hope you enjoyed this oneshot. I haven't published anything in four years so my apologies if I'm rusty. This story was commissionned by salerac1 on tumblr so if you're glad to see another story from me please direct all of your thanks to him, haha. I'm still taking commissions so if you're interested in commissioning a story from me please visit my tumblr page. I go by my usual pen name: beautifulpurpleflame. This story is also available on A03.**


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